


i've been a wreck since you changed

by ArteaCactus



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Abused Deceit | Janus Sanders, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Torture, Deceit | Janus Sanders Angst, Maybe - Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parental Deceit | Janus Sanders, Physical Abuse, Swearing, Sympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Sympathetic Deceit | Janus Sanders, and hes not great, hes the orange side, no one is unsympathetic except for wrath really, original side is wrath, so not really original but djfgsdk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:27:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26337178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArteaCactus/pseuds/ArteaCactus
Summary: Janus always liked to think there were no bad Sides to Thomas. The idea that there was a part of Thomas that was truly awful and cruel always unsettled him. But in that moment, as Wrath lifted him by the shirt and slammed him to the wall, he changed his mind.Thomas had a single bad Side.His name was Wrath, and he was the very monster that Self-Preservation was created to fight.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders, Deceit | Janus Sanders & Everyone, Deceit | Janus Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders, Deceit | Janus Sanders & Original Side(s)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 211





	i've been a wreck since you changed

**Author's Note:**

> please heed the tags!! im no good at writing abuse so pleaasse ignore how shit this is (it was written mostly at 3am, i am so tired), but its still a huge part of it!! its physical abuse between family members! stay safe and take care of yourselves!
> 
> this was a request on tumblr, using the prompt '2. "Are you afraid to die?"' in the '50 Angsty Prompts' list
> 
> title taken from halestorm's song "miss the misery"
> 
> this is literally SO bad but fdjskgdj aaa I'm really hesitant to post this because i feel like its that poorly written?? I'm so sorry in advance
> 
> un-beta'd! please alert me if you see any errors!

Janus’ role as self-preservation ran a little deeper than anyone could ever know.

Sure, he lies and deceives his way to protect Thomas and the other Sides, and he’s the most devoted of any of them to self-care and to Thomas’ mental (and even physical) health, but it didn’t just end there.

it was true that Janus was the one who held back Virgil and Remus. The only reason Virgil broke through was that he _let_ him go (not that Virgil knew it, of course. They all thought he slipped through his fingers, but Janus had always been in control of the situation).

 _Remus_ was a little bit of a slip-up, he was frustrated and exhausted and pulled the petty move of letting Remus go and reveal himself just to prove the others wrong. Not the smartest move on his part, but it didn’t go too horribly and Remus has been happier than he’s been in a while, so he considered it a success regardless. 

And despite letting _those_ two through, his job to hide the Dark Sides never changed. 

Because there was _one_ more that Thomas didn’t know about; _one_ more Side that nobody but himself, Remus, and Virgil knew about; and he was slowly fading from _their_ minds, too. 

The Orange Side.

 _Wrath_.

Janus always liked to think there were no _bad_ Sides to Thomas. Maybe some of them (including himself) could go about their ways questionably, but the idea that there was a part of Thomas that was truly awful and _cruel_ always unsettled him. 

That was before Remus and Virgil left. 

See, the Dark Sides had been somewhat of a family. Janus was the first formed, as well as Patton, and they had taken the form of the caretakers of each Side of the Mindscape (though the line that separated them was much blurrier then). When Logic and Creativity formed, Anxiety and Wrath formed with them. Logic and Creativity went under Morality’s care, and Anxiety and Wrath went under Deceit’s. After the Split, Remus and Roman were forcibly torn apart, and so they were the youngest of all of them.

Remus was, by that point, the glue that held the family together, because they were mostly grown at that point in time when he came in, a child amongst the young adults. So they all took the form of older siblings to him, and each had a hand in raising him. 

When Virgil left, it was expected. He’d always had a fascination with the Light Sides, and Janus knew one day he would leave. It wasn’t a surprise; still a sad day, but not a surprise. 

But when _Remus_ left, bedroom abruptly and without warning moved up next to his brother’s, it caused _chaos_. 

As previously stated, Remus was the _baby_ , the glue to the family. Once he left?

There wasn’t much of a family anymore.

Janus had stayed behind. Of course, he _had_ the chance to move, like Virgil and Remus, but as the appointed ‘father’ to them, he didn’t feel great just up and leaving Wrath behind. Because, of course, Remus and Virgil had _Patton_ now; Wrath wouldn’t have _anyone_ if he left. He chose to stay, to continue taking care of the last member of his family in the Dark Side, to keep the parental role he’d had all his life.

Unfortunately, Wrath wasn’t so keen on that idea.

After Remus left, Wrath’s behavior soured. He’d always been short-tempered, quick to violence and anger, and generally wasn’t the kindest, but it was only to be expected, given his trait, and he usually reigned himself in before it got awful. He always was afraid of scaring Virgil and Remus with his temper. 

Without either of those Sides there to keep his behavior in check, he started getting violent. Janus would go as far as to say downright _abusive_.

Like said before, he didn’t like to think of any Side of Thomas as being bad.

But as he stumbled out of the kitchen, blood dripping past his lips and jaw throbbing with the force of the punch thrown at his face, he was ready to change that thought.

It hurt, truly, to have raised the Side from toddler to adult, to have been a father to him for _thirty years_ , only to be treated as a punching bag; a fun toy to play with when boredom strikes. 

Over the weeks, as the Light Sides thrived, oblivious to the happenings in the Dark Side, Wrath had slowly transformed in Janus’ mind, from ‘son’, to ‘fellow Side’, to ‘villain’ (Similarly, Janus was pretty sure he himself had shifted in Wrath’s mind from ‘father’, to ‘Deceit’, to ‘plaything’. And that _stung)_.

“ _Deceit_ ,” A soft, drawn-out coo from the kitchen followed him as he stumbled, and he tensed as he felt hands grip his shoulders. “I’m bored.”

“We have plenty of video games on various consoles, and board games under the coffee table,” Janus tried not to let his voice shake, but he was sure Wrath felt how he trembled at his touch. 

Typically he prided himself in his ability to stay calm, cool, and collected under any circumstance, but recently he found that that ability wasn’t as flawless when physical pain was involved.

“Not _that_ kind of bored,” Came the answering chuckle, and suddenly Janus’ chest made contact with the floor, a grunt being ripped from his throat, knocked breathless as Wrath’s boot came stomping down on a particularly large bruise on his back. “I’m the kind of bored that makes me wanna hit something.”

“Why don’t you go into Remus’ old room- he has plenty of dummies-” Janus gasped, trying to regain _some_ dignity and push himself up, but Wrath merely stomped down on his shoulder, pinning him to the ground with a sharp intake of breath and weak snarl.

“Oh, but those are no _fun_ ,” Suddenly, Janus was rolled onto his back and was forced to meet Wrath’s fiery gaze, physically recoiling at the intensity of his eyes. “They don’t scream all nice like you do.”

In that moment, as Wrath lifted him by the shirt and slammed him to the wall, Janus erased everything he thought before and slotted a _new_ objective in his mind.

Thomas _did_ have a single bad Side.

His name was Wrath, and he was the very monster that Self-Preservation was created to fight.

* * *

Time passed. 

Minutes rolled into hours, rolled into days, rolled into weeks, rolled into _months_.

Wrath’s abuse never ceased. If anything, it got _worse_.

Sure, the broken noses and infected cuts and large bruises weren’t great, but they were, by _far_ , preferable to his current treatment; broken limbs, open wounds that stretched across his whole body, mutilated hands, and various other methods of torture. 

At the moment, Wrath was using Janus in his new favorite hobby; waterboarding. 

Janus gasped for breath, ice-cold rivulets dripping down his face, hair stuck to his face. He was chained to their dirty, unused porcelain bathtub, metal cuffs around his aching, raw wrists, the chains attached to the tile walls behind him. They were only just long enough for Wrath to grab his hair in a white-knuckled grip and plunge his head under, and even then his shoulders strained as the muscles were pulled. The tub itself was filled with cold water, two bags of ice emptied on top of his body; Janus could feel his movements getting more and more sluggish, his strength weakening as the cold seeped into his skin and chilled him to the bone, the snake part of him pleading to just close his eyes and go to sleep, but his self-preservation keeping him awake.

He only managed to get a few breaths in before he was forced back under.

Now, you may be wondering: Janus represents _Self-Preservation_ , so why wasn’t he doing anything to save himself?

Well, the answer was simple, in his mind. 

If Janus were to leave, save himself, run off to the Light Side where Wrath couldn’t touch him- that meant not only leaving Wrath unsupervised, but it also meant _abandoning_ him, and regardless of the abuse he endured, Janus supposed he was doomed to always see him as _family_. He could bear the weight of knowing he abandoned a Side he’d raised, no matter what he’d done to harm him.

See, if Wrath was left unsupervised, he could potentially get them into even bigger danger; put _Thomas_ in danger. If it wasn’t by accidentally stumbling into the Imagination, it would be from boredom, that would drive him into destroying the Dark Side itself. And no matter the negative things that the Dark Side brought, it was _needed_ , for balance; you cannot have Light without Dark, in _any_ situation.

So, Janus put up with it.

He dealt with the pain and suffering, dealt with all the odd looks the others would give when he flinched back at them merely patting him on the shoulder, dealt with being portrayed as the villain even though he knew who the _real_ villain was.

If it meant protecting them, protecting _Thomas_ , he’d go through all the pain in the world.

“You’re no fun anymore,”

Janus’ lungs ached as he sucked in air greedily, Wrath finally releasing him from the bindings of the chains. Unfortunately, the chains were really the only thing keeping him up- he slid further down, further into the ice, when he was released. Wrath merely chuckled at the sight.

“You stopped fighting and screaming,” He clicked his tongue in disappointment, the sound making Janus’ expression twist into one of anger and pain. _I’m not your pet,_ he thought indignantly, but kept his mouth shut. He learned early on that snapping back did more harm than good.

Janus swam in and out of consciousness, struggling to even try and pull himself out of the freezing water, and couldn’t hold back his sneer once Wrath had turned and walked out. 

Wrath had absolutely no care in the world for him, no care for if he lived or died. He didn’t bother trying to keep Janus’ mouth shut, because he knew just as well as Janus that if he said anything, not only would that allow Wrath to hold sway over Thomas, but it would also mean that Janus would be allowing Wrath access into the Light Side, giving him power to hurt the _others_ , too.

It infuriated him to no end, but the needs of the others would always win out over the wants of himself, even in this situation. It was simply his function.

He managed to pull himself enough over the edge of the tub that he fell out of it, hissing in pain as the sharp edges of the busted tile floors scratched the various open wounds on his body that had been inflicted on him the day previous that he never got around to bandaging. 

He laid there, unmoving and tired, for who knows how long- it was either minutes or hours- when he felt the telltale tug of a summon at his chest. 

And despite the cold, despite the pain and the exhaustion he felt, he pushed himself up to his feet, the summon giving him all the strength in the world he needed to get up, get dressed, and pretend everything was _fine_.

And he just, _just_ managed to do it before he disappeared- a snap of his fingers dressed him in his immaculate, dry, _warm_ clothes, and just as his gloved fingers curled around his staff, he appeared in Thomas’ living room. 

He basked in the warm, pleasant air that surrounded his body, and he nodded his head in greeting to Thomas, before he spoke. 

“Thomas. You require my assistance?”

“Well,” Thomas stammered, eyes wide and expression shocked, and Janus couldn’t help but feel confused. With only a brisk glance around the room, he took note that everyone else looked similar, and he felt the urge to hide behind his hat in self consciousness- when the sudden realization of just _why_ they looked like that fell on him.

He didn’t have his hat, and he was _soaking wet_.

He internally cringed. That was a pretty bad mistake on his part.

“You’re- uh, we didn’t interrupt you, right?” 

Janus waved his hand dismissively, hoping no one noticed how he leaned heavily against his cane, hands trembling. “It’s _fine_ , Thomas, just got out of the bath when you summoned me.”

Well. It wasn’t necessarily a _lie_.

“Really?” He tensed as Logan’s scrutinizing gaze scanned him up and down, “Then why’re you bleeding?”

Janus looked down and sure enough, the pretty golden color of his gloves had spots of dark burgundy blood seeping through, and his wrists itched. The metal cuffs must have ripped open an old wound from Wrath. _Fuck_.

“I- ah, well, you see-” Janus stammered, pulling his sleeve over his hand to hide it from view. “The tiles are broken, in the bathroom, and I slipped-”

“Why are you favoring your leg?” Roman pointed out next, “And you’re shaking like a leaf.”

Janus couldn’t put weight on his broken knee whether he wanted to or not, so he was fully out of luck in hiding _that_.

“I just got out of the bath, Roman, I’m a little cold, sue me for _shivering_ -”

“Janus,” Remus’ quiet, knowing tone almost broke him down, and he avoided the other’s eyes. Remus and Virgil would figure him out in an instant, and he couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t let any harm come to Thomas.

“Thomas,” His voice was loud, commanding, forcing them to drop the topic. “What is it I am needed for?”

Thomas shuffled in place for a moment, clearly debating whether or not he should change the topic, but Janus didn’t give him the chance to bring up anything else relating to him. “If you don’t tell me, I’ll have to get back to what I was doing previously, Thomas.”

“Right, right,” Thomas muttered, shaking his head, and plowed on. “Well, I wanted your assistance because I- uhm, I’ve been feeling.. angry? Lately?” He sounded sheepish, oblivious to the way Janus stiffened, feeling as though ice was injected into his veins, “Like, _really_ angry. I dropped a spoon earlier and I felt like I wanted to _throttle_ something.”

“And- and what does this have to do with me?” Janus questioned, his voice shaking only slightly, because that sounded like..

“We told him you might be able to provide more insight as to what’s going on,” Virgil spoke up, hesitant and quiet, “You know, uh..”

“I’m _Deceit_ ,” Janus hissed, the sound vicious and unexpected, making Virgil reel back in surprise, “I deal in lies and truths, self-preservation and power. I do not deal in _anger_. You would have more luck with literally _any_ other Side here in that department, Thomas.”

“But what about-” Remus tried speaking up, but the sharp, unwavering glare Janus sent him was quick to silence him. 

“There is nothing else about the situation. I will not participate in this conversation any further. Good luck, Thomas.” Janus’ tone was curt, even _cold_. It was so thoroughly unexpected from him that nobody stopped him from sinking out, and the moment he returned to the (relative) safety of his bedroom, he broke down.

Despite the pain and suffering, despite all his best efforts, he couldn’t even do his job right.

Wrath was _still_ coming through to Thomas.

* * *

Janus wasn’t quite sure when he fell asleep, but he knew when he woke up, enough time had passed that Wrath was bored _again_ , and by the looks of his sadistic grin and the large-bladed knife in his hands, Janus wasn’t going to be getting any more sleep any time soon.

“Tell me, _Deceit_ ,” The sickly sweet tone of his voice alone made Janus thrash in his bindings (though his wounds screamed in protest), his arms tied to his sides with leather belts. Duct tape acted as a gag, sealing his lips shut, making him feel even more helpless than any other bindings could manage- his tongue was his best defense, after all. “Are you afraid to die?”

Janus could do nothing more than toss him a weak glare.

Wrath chuckled, crouching down in front of Janus, the tip of his blade gliding up his jaw and tipping his chin up, their eyes meeting.

And even after all he’s gone through, Janus’ eyes softened, because he still saw his _son_ in there.

“I’d imagine you’d hate to die in front of a crowd, am I right? Tongue carved out, so you can’t plead for help, throat cut and bleeding out. People surrounding you, watching you, but not caring enough to help. I wonder,” Janus shivered as the tip of the knife pressed a little harder against his throat, skin catching on the serrated edge, “What if it was dear old Remus and Virgil sitting there, watching, able to help, but don’t care enough too?”

Despite all his best efforts, Janus felt his breath catch in his throat, all too easily picturing the scenario.

Fists clenching, he geared himself up, and kicked Wrath in the gut, his broken knee screaming in pain at being jostled in such a way, but the answering groan of pain from the other was almost worth it. 

“You _bitch_ ,” Wrath snarled, gripping Janus’ hair with one hand and gliding the blade of the knife smoothly across Janus’ throat, blood bubbling and spilling over instantly, a broken sob falling from Janus’ lips as he felt the knife break into his skin. “You’re going to _regret that._ ”

Janus’ eyes shut as the knife rose in the air, bracing for impact, and he heard a loud _thud_ followed by a screech that resembled a feral cat’s- and pain never came. 

Hesitantly, he cracked open an eye, only to jerk upright as he took in the sight of Remus, morning star embedded in Wrath’s skull and blood spilling out of the holes the spikes made, breathing heavily and _shaking_ in rage.

Colors swam in his vision, purple and red and blues, but _green_ was at the forefront, approaching him with such an intense air of fury that he instinctively shrunk back, a whimper falling past his lips without meaning to.

Green faltered, but reached forward nonetheless, and as Janus felt the tape rip off his lips, he fell back, too exhausted to keep sitting up. He saw Red approach and then hands gripped his body, a firm yet _gentle_ hold. He cried out softly as fingers dug into his open wounds by his sides and arms, his shoulders throbbing in pain, but slumped into Red anyway.

He heard voices surround him, soft and comforting, but he couldn’t manage to understand any sentences; the darkness was creeping in, a blanket that promised no more pain, no more suffering, and he accepted it gladly.

Janus fell unconscious, and the voices and colors drifted away.

* * *

When he awoke, he felt sluggish and weak, but rested in a way he hadn’t felt in _months_.

His body felt warm and strange, and as he opened his eyes, he was surprised to find himself covered in bandages across every inch of his body. With minimal difficulty, he scanned the room. He was in a clean, tidy bedroom, white and pristine, the only splash of color being the accents of indigo sprinkled around, decorating the laptop, pencils, notebooks, etc- Logan’s room. 

Shakily, he tried to push himself up- but as it turns out, he was using a _living person_ as a pillow, and they grunted and woke as he moved. He cringed; everything that happened after Wrath cut his throat and he started losing blood had become a bit of a blur in his mind, he vaguely remembered a lot of voices and a scream and the color _green_ -

“Jan-Jan? You awake?” 

Remus.

Janus could only make a soft sound of acknowledgement. His throat screamed in protest at the action, but as he felt Remus’ hands squeeze his own gently, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Oh thank God,” Remus sounded breathless with relief, and Janus felt a swell of happiness in him. He forgot how much he missed him.

“Janus, you scared us _so_ fucking bad,” Remus hissed, “Fuck, why didn’t you say anything about Wrath? Why not to _us_? You _know_ we would have helped the best we could.”

“H-Hurt,” Janus croaked, his voice wrecked in every sense of the word, “Hurt.. You,”

“Fuck you and your damn function as self-preservation not extending to _you_ , too, you _fucker_ ,” Remus face buried itself in Janus’ hair, and Janus huffed in slight exasperation. 

“Janus?” A new voice spoke up, belonging to Logan, who stood in his doorway- as well as literally _everybody fucking else_.

Roman and Virgil crammed together to try and see him to make sure he was okay, and Patton stood a little further back, holding onto what Janus could only assume was food that he didn’t want spilled. 

Janus didn’t say anything, but managed to nod to them, confirming Logan’s silent question. _I’m alright_.

“Wrath is currently.. contained,” Logan chose his words carefully as he approached Janus’ bedside, Patton following closely behind to set a tray of food on the nightstand (Janus was right in his assumption). At the sudden look of panic, Logan elaborated, “He is not in pain or deprived of any of his needs, nor is Thomas aware of his presence. He is being kept in his room, supervised, unable to hurt anyone or do anything harmful.”

Janus immediately relaxed, a soft sigh of relief passing past his lips, but Logan wasn’t done speaking.

“Janus, we would like to apologize if we’ve done anything to make you believe you couldn’t come to us for help with this,” The Logical Side sounded almost _sorrowful_ , “We never meant to make you feel unwelcome, or unwanted.”

“ _No_ ,” Janus hissed softly, throat sending sparks of pain throughout his body, “No, nothing.. you did,” He promised, “Just.. wanted t-to protect you,” 

He practically purred in relief as a warm cloth pressed itself to his bandaged throat, easing the pain slightly. He wasn’t sure if it was Remus, or Virgil (who had darted to his bedside the moment he was let in), but he was grateful for it nonetheless. 

“You should be just as passionate about protecting yourself, you know,” Patton murmured, then shook his head, “We can lecture you later. Rest now, you have some pretty nasty wounds on you.”

Janus was in love with the thought of sleeping some more, and he would, really, but first, he just had to say-

“Please, don’t do anything to Wrath,” He rasped, “He’s not _bad_ , he’s just.. he needs _help_.”

He felt uneasy at the unsure glances shared around the room, but pressed on, “ _Please_. He’s just misunderstood, I-”

Logan shook his head, and placed a gentle hand on Janus’ forearm, “We won’t do anything to him, Janus. Promise.” He reassured, and Janus almost smiled at the bitter taste of _truth_ dancing across his tongue, “Get some rest.”

Confident that Logan was telling the truth, swarmed in the warmth and comfort of Remus and the soft ruffles of his outfit, and feeling safer than he had in ages, Janus let his eyes flutter shut, and he sunk into the mattress, letting sleep claim him again.

And even after all that pain and suffering, Janus couldn’t help but feel hope for Wrath, for his _son_. Hope that he can and will get better, and perhaps even serve Thomas like the rest of them, with a seat at the table and a say in their decision-making. 

Some part of him told him that was impossible, and could never happen, but hey. As much as he was Self-Preservation, he was _also_ Deceit.

And it _was_ his job to lie to help people sleep at night.

Himself included.

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading! i truly appreciate every kudos and comment that's left, they're my biggest motivator (and if you have any constructive criticism for me, PLEASE throw it my way!)


End file.
